Wednesday, Dec. 28, 2005 | 9:10 a.m.
John "Popeye" McFarland spent years living on the streets of Las Vegas before finding a niche in life. He moved into the only home he ever knew 20 years ago and devoted himself to helping others, especially those trying to make their way from the streets.
"I wanted to be somebody for a long time," McFarland told the Sun in a Nov. 27, 1987, story about reclaiming a life that included 14 years traveling America by the rails and sleeping in hobo jungles. "I am somebody now."
McFarland was found dead of natural causes Thursday in the North Las Vegas apartment he had called home for the last 20 years. He was 62.
Las Vegans dubbed McFarland the "mayor of Cardboard City" in the early 1980s because of his passionate criticism of police for rousting vagrants from their makeshift housing around Bonneville Avenue.
"Popeye had an inner spirit that just shined through," said longtime North Las Vegas resident Carol Saure, who took McFarland into her home in 1985 and helped him get into his one-bedroom apartment on Donna Street -- the only real home he ever knew.
"People respected him because he was fair and honest," she said. "He always felt compassion for those on the street. He paid back his good fortune many times over. He was a little, kind, caring and giving man."
McFarland played piano for children of his apartment complex, served as a neighborhood watchdog and repaired broken, abandoned appliances that he gave away to people he considered far less fortunate than himself.
In his prime, McFarland stood just over 5 feet tall. He had club feet and other physical deformities. In recent years, he rode a decorated motorized wheelchair, unable to walk because of severe back problems.
McFarland was given the nickname Popeye long ago because he resembled the spinach-eating cartoon character. Over the years, his scruffy facial stubble grew into a full white beard reminiscent of Santa Claus, whom McFarland portrayed each year at youth Christmas parties.
Illiterate most of his life, McFarland learned to read late in life. He often enjoyed both the Book of Mormon and the Bible. He converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints several years ago, Saure said.
"He was the watchdog of our neighborhood, making sure everyone was safe," said Kory Thompson, McFarland's landlord. "He was very proud to have become self-sufficient after so many years of living on the street. He always paid his rent and bills on time."
McFarland paid rent on his federally subsidized apartment from his modest Social Security check. He made pocket money by digging through Dumpsters for broken TVs, radios, stereos and VCRs, repairing them and selling them.
"Popeye called himself the Master of Garbology," Saure said.
He often gave away repaired items to help former homeless people trying to follow in his footsteps by assimilating into society.
McFarland was born Nov. 11, 1943, at the Cherokee County State Hospital in Iowa. His mother was a committed mental patient, and his father was a trustee at that facility, according to Iowa state documents obtained by Saure.
At age 3, McFarland's mother was caught shoplifting food to feed him and was sent to prison. McFarland was sent to the Soldiers' Orphan's Home in Davenport, according to Iowa state records. He never again saw his mother, Saure said.
Over the next 24 years, McFarland was institutionalized in state facilities. There, he learned to play the piano and became adept at music ranging from honky tonk to boogie-woogie.
Upon his release, McFarland hopped a railroad car and saw the country. In 1983 he arrived in Las Vegas, where he worked with other homeless people to build a community of cardboard houses on what was then Union Pacific Railroad property in the downtown area.
Soon after the police tore down the cardboard homes, McFarland fought his way out of homelessness. But he never forgot those who remained on the streets.
"Bums are people too," he told the Sun in the 1987 story. "They have ups and downs just like the rest of us."
"It was a particularly cold winter in 1985, and Popeye was in pretty bad shape when we took him in," Saure said. "He almost did not make it then. But he did, and we had all of those wonderful years to enjoy him.
"In the last 20 years he came full circle in life and he did not die homeless."
Thompson found McFarland slumped on the floor of his apartment near the table where he repaired appliances. The Clark County coroner's office said the official cause of death was chronic heart disease.
McFarland leaves no known survivors. Services are pending.
Ed Koch can be reached at 259-4090 or at [email protected].
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